


Not As Glamorous As It Seems

by Ghanima_Starkiller



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, shower sex is the it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10104779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghanima_Starkiller/pseuds/Ghanima_Starkiller
Summary: Written for Porn Battle 2017, prompts: washing-up





	

"Kid," Sully calls out, and Nate turns just in time to catch the key that his old friend is tossing to him. "Got you your own room. I don't know what this is--" He gestures with his hand, to indicate Elena, who is thankfully off making a call at the moment, and then to Nathan. "--but I really don't want to be around when whatever it is goes down." 

"Sully," he sighs, but he's too beat up, to dirty and aching, to argue. He simply curls his fingers around the key and shrugs one broad shoulder. "You know, whatever. A shower's a shower, and I need a good one." He threw up his hands, and turned on his heels, his hiking boots making a small squelch on the tile floor of the lobby in the Panama City hotel that Sully picked out for them. 

It's been a hell of a day, he considers as he reaches up to scratch the sunburnt back of his neck. "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Elena's voice is strong, but he hears the playfulness in it now, too. 

He gestures at the door. "My room." 

"My room," she corrects, holding up her key. He holds his up to it, and they match, the same key. 

Nate clucks his tongue and, rolling his eyes, puts his hands on his hips. "Ah, Sully, you old...." He scratches at his three day stubble, and then is still for a moment. "So, do you wanna...?" 

"Do I want to?" she repeats with a bit of a scoff. "Is that-is that the best you can come up with? Do I want to?" 

He just shrugs a shoulder. "Been a hard week," he tells her, and they stare each other down, and both begin to chuckle. 

"Yeah," she answers. 

"Yeah?" His brow shoots up in surprise. 

"Yeah." 

"Ow!" Elena exclaims as her back hits the cold tile of the shower. 

"Sorry, sorry!" He says between desperate, greedy kisses, one thick arm attempting to hold her up, but she keeps slipping, and his footing in the smooth, plastic bath is treacherous. Shower sex is never as glamorous in practice as the idea seems. He kneels to go down on her, but he's too tall, and she's too short, and when he tries to pull her legs up over his shoulders, she slips and can't find purchase, even grasping the soap dish, which has no handle. She banged her elbow, he winged his knee.

They have to keep switching places under the stream of water, because one will be warm, and the other left in the cool updraft of being next to a running shower, and once they're wet, that updraft is more shiver inducing. He's inside of her, and they're moving against one another; his feet squeal on the smooth tub as he loses purchase, her back does the same. She's slipping out of his arm and he has to keep readjusting his grip on her against his tired arms, his overworked muscle. 

And yet, through it all, in spite of it all, they're chuckling and smiling. Their kisses are sweet and genuine. They lay together in bed afterwards, and they're simply holding each other, exchanging affectionate caresses and grins. 

"The sheets are all damp now," she noted, raising a sandy eyebrow. They had stumbled from the shower still dripping and snuggled together on the lumpy mattress. 

"Yeah," he sighs, and kisses her mouth, "I know."

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle 2017, prompts: washing-up


End file.
